


The Dangers Of Emotion

by BettyBufon



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BettyBufon/pseuds/BettyBufon
Summary: Kirk is injured on an away mission, and Spock finds him through their bond. They cuddle in a cave.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	The Dangers Of Emotion

Kirk has really screwed up this time. He thinks he's managed to stem the bleeding, but phasers shouldn't cause this kind of wound. He comforts himself with the fact that none of this should have happened at all- _there was no reason for the mission to go south, no reason for this planet to be populated, no reason for the natives to have_ _phasers, albeit faulty ones-_

  
He hisses, and pushes his hand harder into the crook of his waist. Bones would know what to do-

But the doctor is kilometres above him, in orbit with the rest of the crew, many of whom are already in sick bay.

The dead from this mission won't join them.

He grunts, and tries to reposition himself so he can get a hold of the communicator in his pocket.

  
_No reason for the natives to turn hostile and attack them._

_No reason for the away team to die._

He breathes shallowly. He knows that, between the cave and the storm, the signal won't get through, but it's all he has.

"Kirk to Enterprise," he says, through gritted teeth. As expected, there's no reply. "Enterprise," he tries again, and gasps. His lungs scream from the strain of talking, of _breathing,_ and his hand is slick with blood. _At least the blood is warm,_ he thinks, deliriously. Then, he rests his head back against the wall of the cave, and breathes through it. His fingers clasp and unclasp around the torn remnants of his shirt, and he closes his eyes. He has nothing to use as bandages, and if he takes his coat off, he'll freeze. He shivers, and wonders which will kill him first.

He sits, and numbly listens to the whistle of the storm outside.

Now that he has no hope of being found, he crawls further back into the cave, hoping to get out of the wind. Flakes of snow billow in, and begin to gather at the mouth of the cave. Shuddering now, he curls, and wonders how long it will take to find his body.

*

He hears the footsteps first: uneven, spaced apart, fighting the wind. The crunch of snow. He opens his eyes, and sees the tall outline of a man, moving towards him. Kirk shields his eyes, and tries to make them out.

  
The figure crosses swiftly towards him, and he recognises the gait. He must be closer to death than he thought, because he's sure he's hallucinating.

He _can't_ be here.

"Spock?" He tries to sit up, and moans.

"Captain. Lie still," Spock says, and slides to his knees beside him. His coat is covered with flecks of ice and snow, and there's more melting on his face. Without thinking, Kirk reaches out, and brushes it off. _Relief, shelter,_ _safe_ _-_

His breath hitches. He flinches back, and murmurs an apology.

If Spock thinks anything of the gesture, he doesn't show it.

"How did you find me?" Kirk shivers.

Spock shakes his head. "That's not important right now." He takes hold of Kirk's shoulders, but the captain resists. He grips his arm urgently, and his lip trembles. "Spock. The science team. They're all-"

"I know," he says, and lies him on the ground. Kirk groans, and releases his arm.

Without wasting any time, he unzips Kirk's coat, and reaches for the wound, as if he already knew exactly where it was. _Of course,_ Kirk thinks, _It ripped through my coat,_ _and I've been covering it with my_ _hand_ _. And there's the_ _blood-_

Sock pulls his hand away from the wound to get a better look at it, and Kirk feels a strange flicker of _something._ As Spock begins to tend to the wound, he feels similar flashes. D _isgust. Concern. Sympathy_ _. His thoughts linger on the lost science_ _team-_

He blinks. The feelings are not his own _._ He's too groggy to feel much of anything. He tries to examine Spock's face for some clue as to what's happening, but his eyes won't focus.

Spock releases him, and the connection is broken. It all happened in mere moments, and he struggles to name the phenomenon, but he knows it's happened before, and it feels oddly familiar.

He blinks at the realisation. "Is that how you found me?" He says, his voice barely a whisper. "Telepathy?"

Although Spock hesitates, he thinks he sees him nod. The movement is stiff, perhaps from the cold, but Kirk knows there's something else. If only he had the strength to work it out right now. He closes his eyes, and turns his head to the left. Within moments, he has passed out.

  
*

  
Spock works in silence. The task requires all his concentration, which is good, because it keeps his mind off thinking. It can't stop every thought, though.

Grateful that Kirk is asleep, he begins to attend to the wound. As he works, Kirk twitches in his sleep, and his face twists with pain. Spock feels flashes, echoes of it, but shakes it off. It is not as dire as the sting he felt three hours ago.

Now that he's cleaned the wound, he can see how bad it is. These marks were made by a faulty phaser, or, equally likely, a primitive one. He glances towards the mouth of the cave, suddenly pleased by the existence of the storm. The lifeforms who did this are likely looking for Kirk, and he recalls the exact moment that the mission went wrong.

_He had been with Bones in the_ _medibay_ _, tending to the sick_ _crewmembers_ _, of which there were many. Over a third of the ship had fallen ill, and it didn't take long to notice the pattern. Almost all the victims had been from the lower decks, if not visiting them, and, after running various tests, it became apparent that something was wrong with the water supply. Replacing it, on this uninhabited planet of ice and snow, was to be an easy mission, until they lost contact with the landing party._

_"The storm's picked up, sir,"_ _Uhura_ _said over the intercom._

  
He yearns for more information, and his hand twitches against the meld points on Kirk's forehead, but he restrains himself. There are multiple reasons why he doesn't dare risk it. _T_ _hey are already too close._

Kirk is not a Vulcan. He doesn't understand the significance of a soul bond, its mechanics, nor how it forms and develops. What it means. Even Spock is unaware, to some extent. His bond with T'Pring was different, clinical, and when it was severed, he felt lighter, free. He knows that bonds can develop spontaneously, especially when there's a close emotional link, but Spock has tried to be careful. Logical. Perhaps there is no logic to these things. Only emotion. And _e_ _motion?_

Emotion is a dangerous thing.

He stares down at his bare fingers, and sees the irony. It is imperative to wear gloves when one is a touch-telepath, and he replays all the times his hands have brushed Kirk's skin in the last twenty-four hours alone. A touch of the wrist. A touch to the arm. Here, moments ago, when Kirk brushed snow off his face. Every time, he had glimpsed fleeting, deeper impressions of the captain's mental state, although he has to wonder...

He pauses, and finishes bandaging the wound. Then, he withdraws his hands completely. He closes his eyes, and searches for the hidden pull of the bond that shouldn't be there. It has been seven months since the Pon Farr, but he remembers the weight of T'Spring's mind. With Jim, he has felt no such intrusion, which does not mean that he isn't there- merely that he isn't unwelcome.

_Jim's mind is warm and compatible, but sleepy, and fading._

He freezes, and opens his eyes. It's weak, but there's no denying it's there. He knew Jim was in trouble from the phaser blast alone. That wasn't an accident. If he does nothing, the connection will only get stronger- and that's assuming that he _can_ do something.

He sets his jaw. Kirk isn't his betrothed. Ordinarily, that's the only reason why a soul bond would form, unless-

His hands still, just for a moment.

_T'hyla_ _._

He continues tending to the wound, and Jim shudders in his sleep.

He had discussed it with Uhura one day. _T'hy'la_ was a word that could mean both friend and brother, yet also lover. She had questioned him on its significance one day. During the discussion, she mentioned an Earth language with a similar precedent: German.

" _Freund,_ " she explained, "Can mean both _friend_ and _partner_. Boyfriend, girlfriend, lover," she mused. "I always thought it was unusual." A funny smile played on her lips, and she continued. "Of course, when I asked my teacher, they had no real answer. _'Why is there no clear distinction?'_ They simply said that Germans weren't likely to consider it other people's business."

It was merciful that Uhura had not heard him refer to Kirk as his T'hy'la. Although she seemed to appreciate the nuance of the word, that was precisely its problem- _T'hy'la_ still implies deep love. Unprofessional, perhaps, although Uhura is not one to judge him. Particularly given her own relationship with nurse Chapel.

Deep love. Deep enough for a bond, which will require explanation, and then-

And then, Kirk will know.

_Weren't likely to consider it other people's business._

Spock had smiled at that, but now, in this cave, he wonders if the sentiment still stands. It can't possibly. With the bond forming, his feelings for Jim are rapidly becoming Jim's business, and, if he doesn't tell him soon, he will inevitably work it out. Perhaps he already knows.

Still, soul-bonds cannot form one-sidedly. If his feelings were unreciprocated, the bond wouldn't be there, so Jim must return his affection, in whatever form that may be. As he covers Jim's wounds, he pulls his sleeping form closer, to keep him warm.

Once they've got through this, he'll talk to him about the bond.


End file.
